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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



A TRAMP THROUGH 
SWITZERLAND. 



BENJ. r. LEGGETT. 

'I 

Author of ''A Sheaf of So no. 






We rise and journey onward, 

Through valleys green and old, 

}Vhere the far white Alps announce the morn 
And Iceep the su7iset''s gold. 



—Bayard Taylor, 



NEW YORK : 

JOHN B. ALDEN, PUBLISHER. 

1887. 



FEC 10 ]boc^ 



Copyright, 1887. 

BY 

BENJ. F. LEGGETl. 



-^Q 



?> 



%^ "ARGYLE PRESS," 

^ PRINTINa AN* BOOKBINOINCi, 

^v\ 24 4 29 WOOSTER 6T., N. Y. 

V 



TO 



GEORGE GARY BUSH. 

To-night, friend. I greet the stars again 
Whose kindly light o'er us so long ago 
Kept patient watch above the hills of snow, 
Till flush of morning bade their glory wane ! — 
The self-same stars ! — and now my feet would fain 
Ee-climb the Pass as, on that storm-shut day, 
When night and tempest barred the mountain way — 
Save when the cloud-flash lit the spears of rain — 
To see once more above the Alpine range 
How fair they burned, the storm's wild fury spent, 
Flooding the white hills with a beauty strange — 
The ghostly pillars of the firmament ! — 
And with what rapture, their sweet gage withdrawn, 
Mont Blanc's white glory took the kiss of Dawn ! 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTION. 
I. 

Zurich. — City and Lake. — Alpine Views. — Lake Zug. — 
Ascent of the Rigi. — Mountain Scenery 9 

II. 

Lake Lucerne. — TelPs Chapel. — Altorf. — Up the St. 
Gothard Road. — ^Amstig. — ^Wassen. — Devil's Bridge. 
— Valley of Uri 16 

IIL 

Adieu to St. Gothard. — The Turca Passi — Snowballing 
in August. — Rhone Glacier. — The Pass to Grimsel. 
— Down the Aar. — Handeck Falls. — Meirengen 23 

IV. 

From Meirengen to Giessbach Falls. — Inter lachen. — 
Lauterbrunnen. — Staubbach Falls. — Over the 
Wengern Alps. — Avalanches. — Grindelwald 30 



From Interlachen to Kandersteg. — The Gerami Pass. — A 
Wonderful Bridlepath.—The Battle of Leuk.— Down 
the Dala.— Up the Rhone 34 



4 CONTENTS. 

Vl. 

Valley of the Yisp. — St. Nicolas.-— Waterfalls and Gla- 
ciers.— The Wiesshorn.—Zermatt. — The Matterhom. 
— The Kiffelberg and Gorner Grat 40 

VII. 

First ascent of the Matterhom. — Farewell to Zermatt. 
Down the Visp. — Swiss Farming. — Cottages and 
Customs. — From Visp to Martigny 63 

VIII. 

Over the Col de la Farclaz . — Up the Col de Balme. — 
Lost on the Mountains. — An Alpine Storm. — A 
Drowsy Watch. — Sunrise over Mont Blanc 54 

IX. 

Valley of Chamouni. — Glaciers. — Monarch of Moun- 
tains. — The Mer de Glace. — The Tete Noire Pass. 
— Martigny again. — The Long Walk ended . . .; 68 



Mt. Vesuvius and Pompeii 65 

A Walk in the Odenwald 73 

Through the Black Forest 83 



PREFATORY. 

The following pages are the record of a 
three weeks' tour in Switzerland. The 
journey was made on foot because we had 
more time than money at our disposal. 
So well pleased were we with the mode of 
travel that were we to repeat our expe- 
rience we should choose again the knapsack 
and staff. 

To all prospective travellers in Switzer- 
land who wish to enjoy its scenery at their 
leisure, as well as to get the greatest pos- 
sible enjoyment out of their journey at the 
least expense, we commend the pedestrian 
tour. 



INTRODUCTION. 

Switzerland is the wonderland of Eu- 
rope. The Alps are her everlasting walls 
of defence and their lofty cones the 
watch-towers of her liberties. With an 
area less than half of Maine, or twice as 
large as Massachusetts, she stands almost 
alone amid the monarchies of Europe, 
as fearless and free as the eagle of her 
native crags. 

The name of her people has become a 
synonym for endurance and courage and 
heroism ; for integrity and patriotism, and 
undying hate of wrong. 

Her history is embalmed in romance 
and song. Her 16,000 square miles of area 
contain the sublimest mountain scenery, 
the loftiest valleys of pastoral peace and 
beauty. Here are cloud-capped pyramids 
and foaming cascades leaping from the 
sky. Her glaciers are without a parallel, 
and her storm-cradled avalanches shake 



8 INTBOBUCTION. 

with their crashing tread her ramparts of 
eternal snow. 

Sturdy Republic of the mountains ! 
Cradled in difficulty, inured to hardship, 
and fanned by the air of liberty, how could 
her people be less than hardy and brave 
and free ! 

There is but one Switzerland. In the 
wild and rugged beauty of her scenery 
she stands alone. The picturesque and 
the sublime have laid their hands upon 
her, and the woven spell which they have 
wrought have given her a charm forever. 



A 

TRAMP THROUGH SWITZERLAND. 



CHAPTER I. 

Zurich — City and Lake — Alpine Views 
— Lake Zug — Ascent of the Rigi — 
Mountain Scenery. 

We began, at Zurich, the realization of 
the long cherished dream of our boyhood. 
We had come, only the night before, from 
the storied glooms of the Black Forest — 
that goblin land of legendary lore, in- 
wrought with magic and enchantment. 
Its spell still lay upon us, like the dusky 
shadows of its pines, so that even here, 
upon the border of the mountain land, we 
could hardly realize that we were in Swit- 
zerland. 

Zurich is a charming city, beautiful for 
situation, and rich in rare historical asso- 
ciations. Here, in 1535, Miles Coverdale 



10 A TRAMP THBOUGII 

gave to the world theyfr^/ English version 
of the Scriptures. 

In its cathedral, dating from the eleventh 
century, the early reformers preached the 
doctrines of the Reformation. We wan- 
dered through its ancient streets, and 
from its shady battlements looked down 
on lake and city environed with green 
slopes of rural peace and plenty. 

Leaving Zurich early one morning, we 
climbed the UetUberg, an eminence some 
two thousand feet high and about four 
miles from the city. From this height 
the outlines of distant mountains stood 
like gray phantoms in the morning mist. 
The city and lake lay in the green valley 
at our feet. The winding shores and the 
hillsides beyond were dotted with villages 
and hamlets, and rich in orchards, vineyards, 
and meadows. This, our first excursion, 
gave us great satisfaction as well as a keen 
appetite for our dinner, to which we did 
ample justice on our return to Zurich. 

Taking the little steamer in the after- 
noon, we passed down the lake to Horgen. 
Lake Zurich is about twenty-five miles in 
length, and from one to two miles in 
width. It is surrounded with hills and 



SWITZERLAND, 11 

mountains, but none of very great height. 
Though charming in itself, it does not 
compare in picturesque beauty with our 
own Lake George. Landing at Horgen 
we took the old post-road over the hills to 
Lake Zug. It was a walk of ten miles, 
mostly through a richly cultivated region, 
though at quite an elevation above the 
sea. From the green slopes above Hor- 
gen we had our first glorious view of the 
snow-covered Alps. Toiling up these 
heights under the warm afternoon sun, a 
curve in the road brought us face to face 
with some half-dozen snow-mantled peaks, 
lifted like vast white tents against the sky ! 
There they stood, the Sentis, the Speer, 
and the pyramids of Glaurus, in the white 
silence of a winter that had never yielded 
to summer's kiss. The spell of the Black 
Forest was broken. We were indeed 
passing the borders of the land of promise, 
for these were the out-posts of her glory. 
Grander scenes have since unrolled be- 
fore us, loftier pinnacles have buttressed 
the blue vault over our heads, but this 
scene, standing in the golden light of that 
August afternoon, still wears the impress 
of unfading beauty — that changeless charm 
which first impressions give. 



12 A TRAMP TO ROUGH 

Passing on up the dusty windings of the 
road where the diligences enHvened the 
soHtudes with their jangling bells, we 
crossed the crest of the mountain range 
and descended into the dark, wooded valley 
of the Sihl — darker for the gathering twi- 
light — and halted for the night on theshores 
of Lake Zug. The dusky shadows of the 
mountains deepened over its quiet waters 
as we ended our first day's tramp and 
were soon lost in dreams. 

In the early morning, a sail of nine miles 
up the lake with the Rigi looking grandly 
down through the rifts in its cloud-mantle, 
landed us at Arth, a little hamlet lying in 
the valley at the mountain s base. Passing 
on through the quaint village and the or- 
chards lying behind it, we sought the ob- 
scure bridle-path and began the ascent of 
the Rigi. From the station of the moun- 
tain railway near at hand, the impatient 
locomotive with a single car attached, 
rattled off on its upward journey with a 
derisive whistle in nowise calculated to 
cheer the hearts of mountain pedestrians. 
Four hours of steady climbing lay before 
us. The hot August sun looked down 
upon us with glowing fervor. Up through 



SWITZERLAND, 18 

the lower, wooded slopes, we followed 
the windings of the rugged bridle-path to 
the barren heights beyond. Our horizon 
widened at every zig-zag of the road, re- 
vealing new pictures at every turn. Across 
broad mountain pastures sprinkled with 
herds, — past rude chalets and chapels whose 
roofs were laden with stones — over rustic 
bridges spanning foaming torrents — by way- 
side shrines and crosses where the pious 
herdsmen pause to pray, we plodded on 
and on, up the ever-winding mountain- 
path. Higher and yet higher, the vision 
expanding at every step — green valleys 
unwinding among the hills, and peaceful 
lakes gleaming in the charmed circle. 
Peak after peak in snowy beauty joined 
the spectral conclave, till from the Rigi 
Kulm a hundred and twenty miles of 
glittering ice-crags and snow-clad pinnacles 
like a vision of enchantment were lifted 
against the sky. The matchless glory of 
the Alps from the Sentis to the Jungfrau 
stood before us — 

** A line of battle tents in everlasting snow ! " 

Across the valley opposite the scarred 



14 A TBAMP THBOUGH 

and desolate slope of the Rossberg frowned 
grimly above the silent villages which its 
avalanche buried eighty years ago ! The 
Rigi Kulm is a rich mountain pasture six 
thousand feet high, from whence the eye 
may sweep over a circuit of three hundred 
miles. For hundreds of years these green 
slopes have been frequented by herdsmen 
and shepherds, and thousands of cattle 
still find pasturage here as of old. The 
countless lakes and villages nestled in the 
green valleys, and the encircling groups of 
snowy towers and battlements have made 
this one of the famous mountain panoramas 
of the world. The spacious hotels crown- 
ing the highest slopes and the several rail, 
ways scaling the mountain's sides, annually 
bringing thousands of summer loungers 
from all parts of the world, have conspired 
to bring about another confusion of 
tongues, making this breezy height a modern 
tower of Babel. We turned aside from the 
weary jargon of human voices, and stretch- 
ing ourselves upon the grassy bluff over- 
looking LakeZug, from whence one might 
almost pitch a pebble into its quiet waters, 
took our noonday rest. 

We found the ascent of the Rigi ex- 



SWITZERLAND. 15 

tremely toilsome — much more so than 
many higher mountains which were after- 
wards chmbed — indeed we can recall but 
one experience more wearisome than this — 
the ascent of Vesuvius, made several 
months later. Descending the mountain 
by the southern slope we met peasants 
wearing heavy wooden shoes who were 
carrying heavy burdens on their backs to 
the hotels above. Old men and old women, 
bowed with the weight of years, yet bur- 
dened with heavy cages of poultry climbed 
steadily upward, pausing to rest here and 
there before the wayside shrines. It is 
wonderful what heavy loads these poor 
people carry up the steepest bridle-paths. 
Lake Lucerne — the Lake of the Four 
Forest Cantons — lay in the valley at our 
feet. Around it the purple mountains 
crowded to look upon its beauty, and over 
it the light clouds trailed their airy 
shadows. The transfigured beauty of the 
Rigi's embattled horizon had passed from 
view, and, hurrying down to the shore, we 
passed by steamer to Lucerne. 



16 A TBAMP THBOUGH. 



CHAPTER 11. 

Lake Lucerne — ^-Tell's Chapel — Altorf 
— 'Up the St. GothardRoad — Amsteg 
— Wassen — Devil's Bridge — Valley of 
Url 



Lucerne is the Saratoga of Switzerland. 
Situated on an arm of the lake which is 
here hemmed in by lofty mountain peaks, 
it affords an out-look of great beauty and 
grandeur. The city on the land side is 
flanked by an ancient wall surmounted with 
watch towers. The principal attractions of 
the place are the bridges with their works 
of art and Thorwaldsen's Dying Lion — 
a monument to the memory of the Swiss 
Guards who fell in the defense of the Tui- 
leries in August, 1 792. The Lion is twenty- 
eight feet in length and is carved out of a 
natural ledge of sandstone. It is repre- 
sented as lying in a grotto, fatally pierced 
by a broken spear, yet guarding with its 



SWITZERLAND. 17 

dying strength the Bourbon shield. "It 
wears an expression of pain and courage, 
of fidelity and resignation to fate, which 
the genius of art has faithfully wrought in 
stone." — From Lucerne we passed by 
steamer up the lake to Fluelen, a distance 
of twenty-five miles. Of all the Swiss lakes 
the Lake of the Four Forest Cantons 
stands unrivalled in the wild and pictur- 
esque beauty of its scenery, while the leg- 
endary and heroic associations of the olden 
time lend it an additional charm. The 
steamer excursion from Lucerne to Fliielen y" 
is unquestionably one of the finest in the 
world. The irregular and rugged outline 
of the lake, the high mountain walls, which 
enclose it, and the many snow-clad pin- 
nacles which are seen from its surface, give 
it a singular beauty and wildness wholly its 
own. On the bay of Uri is the Rutli, the 
famous trysting-place of the Swiss patriots 
in 1307. On the opposite side, farther on, 
we passed Tells Chapel, built by the Can- 
ton of Uri five hundred years ago, on the 
spot where the hero is said to have leaped 
from the tyrant s boat. It is a small stone 
structure whose walls are adorned with rude 

scenes from the life of Tell. 

2 



18 A TRAMP THBOUGH 

The scenery along this arm of the lake 
IS of the wildest. Here loftier snow-capped 
mountains crowd closer on the bay, and 
deep, narrow gorges give glimpses here and 
there, into cold ice-grottoes and the drifted 
snow fields beyond. Landing at Fllielen a 
walk of two miles brought us to Altorf, 
alive with romantic associations connected 
with the name of Tell. It is a little town 
among the mountains, having less than 
three thousand inhabitants, and the cap- 
ital of the Canton of Uri. A colossal 
statue of Tell stands in the market-place, 
and is said to occupy the spot where he 
aimed the arrow at the apple on the head 
of his son. About thirty rods from this 
is a fountain supposed to mark the position 
of the tree against which the boy stood dur- 
ing the trial of the archer's skill. 

Upon the walls of an ancient tower hard 
by are depicted in rude fresco the stirring 
events which here transpired. TelFs statue 
represents him with one hand uplifted grasp- 
ing an arrow, while with the other he holds 
his trusty bow. It is the moment of his 
defiant reply concerning the purpose of the 
concealed arrow. The villagers cherish 
considerable faith in Tell's exploits, and 



SWITZERLAND, . 19 

hold his story quite as likely to be true as 
false. What matter whether it be romance 
or history? It has stirred the blood of 
youth for generations past and will for gen- 
erations yet to come. 

We left the old town at last, and took 
our way up the valley of the impetuous 
Reuss towards the Bristenstock whose white 
crown, 10,000 feet high, seemed to close the 
valley in the distance. We were on the 
great St. Gothard road, one of the oldest 
highways into Italy. The pass of St. Goth- 
ard begins properly at the foot of the 
Bristenstock, where the little village of 
Amsteg has stopped to rest in the shadow 
of the mountain. This pass is one of the 
grandest of the Alpine gorges, with the 
wildest of wild rivers plunging through it. 
From Amsteg to Andermatt, about fourteen 
miles, the scenery is most grand and beau- 
tiful. Sometimes the road winds along the 
almost perpendicular wall hundreds of feet 
above the foaming Reuss. Then it zig-zags 
along the mountain-side,or crosses the gorge 
at a dizzy height over bridges spanning the 
torrent by a single arch. Again it pierces 
the solid rock in safety while the avalanche 
slides harmlessly above. From cloud-cap- 



20 ATBAMP THBOUGH 

ped heights on either hand white cascades 
leap from cliff to cliff and plunge into the 
river of foam below. All day the wild 
rumble of the Reuss greeted our ears as it 
tumbled through the wild gorge white as 
snow : — all day we quenched our thirst at 
icy rills leaping down from perpetual snow- 
fields. The whole Pass is a perpetual suc- 
cession of pictures which words fail to de- 
scribe. — We reached Wasen after dark 
where we were glad to rest for the night. 
Our walk of twenty-one miles from Fluelen 
gave us sleep unbroken even by the per- 
petual thunders of the Reuss. 

We left Wasen early in the morning, 
and walked to Geschenen, three miles, to 
breakfast. A little beyond Wasen we 
passed the Rohrbach Fall, and just as we 
reached Geschenen, a deep valley opened 
at our right and revealed the Rhone 
Glacier lying white and still in the morn- 
ing sun far above us. Down the wild 
gorge came a tributary of the Reuss, 
bringing the glacier s tribute to the lower 
valleys. Near Geschenen we found hun- 
dreds of men at work on the St. Gothard 
railroad, and farther we passed the en- 
trance to the great tunnel through which 



SWITZERLAND. 21 

the railway trains are to pass under the 
Alps into Italy ! 

Beyond this the Reuss makes a wild 
plunge of a hundred feet into the misty 
chasm, while on the overhanging spray 
the rainbow builds its arch of peace. 
Here is the Devil's Bridge. 

" With a single arch from ridge to ridge 
It leaps across the terrible chasm 
Yawning beneath us black and deep, 
As if, in some convulsive spasm, 
The summits of the hills had cracked. 
And made a road for the cataract. 
That raves and rages down the steep! '* 

The old bridge over which the French 
and Austrians struggled so fiercely for 
the mastery a hundred years ago, lies 
in ruins below. A little farther on at 
an elevation of 4,600 feet, we passed 
through the Urner-loch — a tunnel in the 
solid rock, seventy yards in length, and 
emerged into the valley of Uri — a green 
pasture-land walled in by snow-patched 
mountains. The St. Gothard road is a 
grand achievement of engineering skill 
How changed is this mountain pass 
since the vandal hordes of the north first 
swarmed through it into Italy ! In place 
of the obscure mountain trail is a splendid 



22 A TRAMP THROUGH 

carriage road, tunnelling the rocks, sweep- 
ing around curves, zig-zagging up the moun- 
tain-side, crawling along the face of per- 
pendicular ledges, or spanning the white 
river of foam a hundred feet below ! The 
first hamlet in the valley of Uri is Ander- 
matt, and about a mile and a half farther 
is Hospenthal. The former has a popu- 
lation of about four hundred, and the lat- 
ter somewhat more. 



SWITZEBLAND. 23 



CHAPTER III. 

Adieu to St. Gothard — The Furca Pass 
— Snowballing in August — Rhone 
Glacier — The Pass to Grimsel — Down 
THE Aar — Handeck Falls — Meiringen. 

At Hospenthal, in the little valley of 
Uri, our road diverged from the great St. 
Gothard highway, toward the Furca Pass. 
The summit of the St. Gothard Pass is 
about seven miles farther on. Hospen- 
thal is an ancient mountain town over- 
looked by an old tower built by the Lom- 
bards. In this high Alpine valley, where 
winter lasts eight months of the year, the 
sun blazed down fiercely upon us, though 
snow lay upon the mountains all around. 
The men and women were making hay in 
the meadows; and in the lower pastures, 
and on the mountain slopes hundreds of cat- 
tle were grazing. At some distance beyond 
Realp, where we halted for dinner, we be- 
gan climbing out of this green valley, en- 



/ 



24 -4 TRAMP THROUGH 

livened by countless flocks and the tink- 
ling of herd-bells, by the endless windings 
of the Furca Road. From the summit 
of the Pass, the narrow valley threaded by 
the swift river, lay at our feet Around it 
towered high, barren mountains, while 
down their slopes leaped torrents of foam. 
In the distance the Bernese Alps lifted 
their white shoulders above the encircling 
mountains. Cool breezes from regions of 
ice and snow blew over the Pass, temper- 
ing the summer heat. Behind the Furca 
Hotel, which enjoys the reputation of 
being one of the highest habitations in 
Europe, we indulged in the novel experi- 
ence of snowballing in August ! The 
road from the Furca led us by intermin- 
able windings to the valley of the Rhone 
and its wonderful glacier. We doubt 
whether there is in all Switzerland a more 
tortuous road than this over the Furca 
Pass. One must travel for miles in order 
to effect but a slight change, comparative- 
ly, in altitude. From the broad curves of 
the lower slopes we looked down upon 
several miles of the Rhone Glacier. This 
frozen cataract is imbedded between moun 
tains, 10,000 and 12,000 feet high, and ex- 



SWITZERLAND. 25 

tends back fifteen miles to their summits. 
Fed by the eternal snows from these 
heights, and slowly yielding to the sun, it 
crawls along till it becomes a mass of rays 
tal, now smooth and white, now shattered 
and splintered as it breaks over precipices 
in its way, forming a series of ice cascades 
in its slow but certain march to the valley 
There lay its colossal proportions, while 
in fairy-like beauty the crystal minarets, 
crowning the final fall, glittered in the sun. 
It was a vision of rare splendor wdiich ^ 

made us forget our weariness as we de- 
scended into the desolate valley. From 
this dissolving mass flows the river Rhone 
— five hundred miles to the sea. In the 
morning we explored the Glacier s dome- 
like base, and drank at the muddy rill 
which issues therefrom to form the Rhone. 
For a considerable distance below the base 
of the glacier, the valley is literally piled 
with rocks, boulders, and gravel, making it 
a wild picture of desolation and ruin. We 
climbed out of this cold, gloomy valley by 
a wretched bridle-path over the rugged 
Maienwand — a torn, gullied, and rock- 
strewn slope, fringed with rhododendrons, 
and commanding a magnificent view of 



/ 



26 A TRAMP THROUGH 

the upper Glacier. At the summit of the 
Pass — an elevation of 7,000 feet — we came 
to the Lake of the Dead, where the 
French and Austrians buried their slain, 
after a fierce engagement here in 1799. 
It is a broad pool of ice water in a rocky- 
basin fed by the melting snows and so 
limpid that objects can be seen many feet 
below the surface. We could easily im- 
agine that the white stones in its depths 
were the bones of the dead which had 
rested there for nearly a century. Be- 
yond this mountain tarn our path led us 
across huge drifts of freshly fallen snow, 
while the peaks all around were arrayed 
in spotless white. From the summit of 
the Pass to the Grimsel Hospice, a thou- 
sand feet below, the obscure bridle-path, 
partly indicated by stakes, is the roughest 
and rockiest imaginable. The huge, bar- 
ren rocks, crushed and splintered, or 
smoothed and rounded, tell of the monster 
glaciers which crawled across them ages 
ag-o ! 

Around the Hospice tower snowy peaks 
from 9,000 to 14,000, feet high. In a rocky 
depression in the rear lies a gloomy little 
lake, upon whose narrow margin scant past- 



SWITZERLAND. 27 

urage grows in the brief Alpine summer 
The Hospice was formerly a refuge for. 
such poor wayfarers as necessity compelled 
to cross the mountains; — now it is an hotel 
thronged with tourists during the season 
of summer travel. Some distance to the 
westward the Aar issues as a muddy stream 
from two glaciers, one of which thrusts its 
diminished, foot far down the gorge. Our 
path followed the river down a wild ravine 
overlooked by the lofty Agassizhorn on the 
left. The valley is narrow and desolate in 
the extreme, being almost entirely desti- 
tute of animal and vegetable life. For a 
distance of nine miles there were only two 
miserable dwellings. The perfect sea of 
rocks scattered ever3^where, told of the 
mighty agencies which had wrought here 
in the past. We crossed vast sloping 
ledges of gneiss worn smooth and deeply 
striated by glacial action. Upon one of 
these glacier-hewn tablets was inscribed '' L. 
Agassiz — 1838." Our path followed closely 
the swiftly flowing Aar, often bridging the 
torrent at a dizzy height above the foaming 
w^aters. Farther down the valley the scanty 
soil began to yield mosses, grasses, and 
rhododendrons, and yet farther gloomy 



28 ^ TRAMP THROUGH 

groves of pine lent their somber plumes to 
the lonely waste, and thinly fringed the 
slopes on either hand. 

The Handeck Fall, in a region of pines 
which we reached at noon, is regarded by 
many as the finest in Switzerland. It is 
formed by the Aar making a plunge of two 
hundred and fifty feet down a narrow chasm, 
while upon the left, but a little lower, it is 
joined by the crystal waters of theAerlen- 
bach. The two streams fall unbroken half 
way down, and then unite in a dense 
cloud of spray. From the dizzy bridge 
above the fall we looked down into the 
frightful chasm and saw the rainbow span- 
ning the blended rivers. 

We rested here an hour, breaking our fast 
at the little log-built inn, and then passed 
on down the valley, which grew broader 
and greener as we descended. Farther, 
rude chalets became more frequent, and 
these were roofed with boards, or shingles, 
with stones piled upon them to hold them 
in place ; — a common mode of roofing in 
the mountain valleys of Switzerland. 

In the vicinity of Guttannen, a thriftless 
looking village, there were patches of grain 
and strips of meadow dotted thickly with 



SWITZERLAND. 29 

heaps of stones. The people were cutting 
the grass along the path with sickles, and 
carrying it for miles on their backs. Near 
Imhof the carriage road begins, winding 
in places along the precipitous slopes of the 
mountains high above the Aar, which 
thunders through a wild gorge far below. 
On, down the green valley we went, past 
Imhof with its cottage roofs laden with 
stones, till, just above Meiringen, the white 
falls of the Reichenbach hung in the dusk 
over the tree tops on the left. At Meir- 
ingen we halted for the night, having 
walked from the Rhone Glacier since 
morning. 



30 ^ TEA MP TUB OU Gil 



CHAPTER IV- 

From Meiringen to Giessbach Fall — 
Interlachen — Lauterbrunnen — Staub- 
BACH Fall — Over the Wengern Alp 
— Avalanches — Grindelwald. 

Meiringen is important as being the con- 
verging point of several Alpine routes. 
Our course was over the carriage road to 
Lake Brienz and then by foot-path over a 
spur of the mountains to Giessbach. The 
great attraction here is the renowned water- 
fall, or rather series of seven cascades by 
which the mountain torrent descends as bv 
a dizzy stairway more than eleven hundred 
feet to the lake. The Fall has a pictur- 
esque beauty of its own, though lacking in 
the grandeur of the Handeck or the Reich- 
enbach. From Giessbach to Interlachen, 
between the Lakes of Brienz and Thun, a 
brief respite from foot-travel was afforded 
us by steamer and rail. From Interlachen 
we took our way up the swift Llitschine to- 
ward the cloud-hooded Monch and the 



A TRAMP THROUGH 81 

white-robed Jungfrau. Upward we jour- 
neyed in the shadow of frowning mountains 
often aUve with the mellow music of the 
Alpine horn, till Lauterbrunnen — the valley 
of cascades — opened before us, with the 
beautiful Staubbach Fall. Into the narrow 
mountain-walled valley from a height of 
980 feet leaps the cloud-cradled torrent and 
crumbles into spray before it reaches the 
bottom ! — a " brook of dust " truly. The 
white banner of mist tossed by the wind in 
graceful folds against the dizzy wall seems 
like a truce-flag waved from the skyey bat- 
tlements of some old citadel. 

Lauterbrunnen on the Llitschine is 
mainly a hamlet of booths for the sale of 
wood and ivory carving, pictures, and alpen- 
stocks. Here as in other places in Swit- 
zerland, lace weavers sit by the roadside 
weaving the finest of fabrics by the rudest 
of methods. Here and there are swarthy 
mountaineers with high peaked hats who 
blow ringing blasts from Alpine horns 
which set the wild echoes flying. We 
passed out of this most picturesque valley 
into which the sun shines but a few hours 
daily, by climbing over the Wengern Alp 
and the Little Scheideck — those lofty 



32 SWITZERLAND. 

mountain pastures facing the white peaks 
of perpetual snow. The path wound steep- 
ly upward from Lauterbrunnen, revealing 
at every turn broader glimpses of the upper 
valley with its glaciers and waterfalls. 
The Jungfrau, Monch, Eiger, Silverhorn, 
Snowhorn, and others looked down upon 
us from a height of 1 3,000 feet. 

The range over which we passed was 
alive with herds of cows and goats and the 
constant tinkling of their bells. Several 
rude chalets were passed where the herds 
are assembled twice daily for milking. 
These were built of logs and the roofs 
laden with stones. For hours our way lay 
in the very shadow of the Alpine monarchs, 
and we beheld their glory face to face. 
Near the Hotel Jungfrau we saw avalan- 
ches, loosened by the mid-day sun, plunge 
down the Jungfrau wath a rumble and 
crash that shook the mountains like an 
earthquake. Again and again we heard 
their crashing thunders above the clouds 
but watched in vain for their appearance. 

From the Hotel Bellevue on the summit 
of the Little Scheideck the whole valley of 
Grindelwald lay like a map before us. From 
this point the bridle-path descends to the 



A TRAMP THROUGH 33 

green valley famous for its immense past- 
ures and herds and glaciers. The dissolv- 
ing glaciers of Grindelwald form the Black 
Liitschine, which we followed for many 
miles on our return to Interlachen. — Dark- 
ness overtook us long before we reached 
Zwei Liitschinen. Here we tarried for the 
night, thankful that the morrow would 
bring us a day of rest. It was Saturday 
night and we had made twenty-four miles 
since morning. Sunday was a day of rain 
— the first since our tour began. Our 
packs were at Interlachen, to which place, 
towards evening, we managed to return. 

3 



34 A TBAMP THROUGH 



CHAPTER V. 

From Interlachen to Kandersteg. — The 
Gemmi Pass. — A Wonderful Bridle- 
path. — The Baths of Leuk. — Down the 
Dala — Up the Rhone. 

Sunday evening was spent at Interlachen. 
The storm had passed and left a brighter 
prospect for the morrow. Interlachen is a 
delightful place in several respects. It is 
situated in a fruitful valley surrounded 
with hamlets and orchards and mountains. 
The views from its streets are charming. 
Many enjoyable excursions may be made 
in its vicinity. Altogether it is a place 
where the pilgrim will delight to tarry. 

We left Interlaken in the early dawn 
while yet the gray mist shrouded the sleep- 
ing town. Our destination was the high 
mountain valley of Kandersteg — twenty- 
five miles away. Our road wound along 
the shores of the picturesque Thun for 
several miles, and then turned to the left 



SWITZERLANIJ. 35 

over the hills to Aeschi : — thence up the 
green valley of the Emd with the Niesen 
towering above us, past Muhlenen to 
Frutigen where we turned aside up the 
narrow Kandersthal. All day we wan- 
dered up this green valley, with the August 
heat tempered by the cool air from the 
mountains. Along the borders of the 
stream were strips of grain and meadow. 
Although there was a considerable display 
of industry, it was, evidently, a marked case 
of the pursuit of agriculture under difficul- 
ties.- — The mountains on either hand are 
lofty and steep, yet some of them have 
green pasture slopes away up toward their 
summits where herds of cattle were grazing. 

A little before reaching Kandersteg the 
valley is crowded into narrower limits, and 
farther up the streams the mountain peaks 
were white with snow. 

Kandersteg lies in a rocky bowl whose 
sides and rim are lofty mountain walls. 
We reached it at dusk and found it cold 
and dismal. Instead of the evening quiet 
there was the voice of many waters rushing 
down from the snow-fields and leaping from 
the rocks on every side. We slept, how- 
ever, in spite of the confusion, and awoke in 



36 ^ TRAMP THROUGH 

the morning to find ourselves completely 
walled in, with no visible way of escape ! 
We left the little hamlet quietly sleeping 
in its snow-girt valley and took our way^ 
shivering with cold, up the Gemmi Pass. 
Looking up from below there seemed no 
possible way of escape from our gloomy 
surroundings. To climb the mountain 
wall by the route indicated seemed impos- 
sible ! The path mounts upward by many 
zig-zags from the base of the Gellihorn, and 
leads through a gloomy fringe of evergreens 
at a dizzy height above the valley, disclos- 
ing scenes of rare beauty and wildness. 
Above the wooded region and interspersing 
the rocky desolations are green pastures 
where herds of sheep and cattle were graz- 
ing. Higher in the Pass the scene be- 
came wilder, and even the lowing herds 
seemed to be affected by the general 
gloom and to long for the lowland pastures. 
Vast glaciers, creeping down from moun- 
tains ten thousand feet high, brought to 
the borders of these pastures the chill of 
the perpetual ice-fields. The only sounds 
were the lowing of herds, the bleating of 
sheep and the tinkling of their bells. 

Four hours from Kandersteg brought us 



SWITZEBLAND. 37 

to the Schwarenbach Inn, perched upon a 
steep declivity above a deep gorge. Here, 
at an altitude of about seven thousand feet, 
we took refreshments and then passed on 
to the Dauben Sea. This is a lake about 
a mile long fed by the muddy waters of the 
Lammern Glacier, which in the past 
wrought wild desolation in this region. 
The lake has no outlet and is said to be 
frozen seven months of the year. It lies 
like a steel-gray mirror framed in by jagged 
rocks and brooded over by the silence of 
death ; while all night long the pitying 
stars look down upon its utter loneliness. 

A little beyond this point, at an elevation 
of 7,500 feet, we reached the summit of the 
Pass on the shoulder of the Daubenhorn, 
two thousand feet below its bald, white 
crown. Below us lay the valley of the 
Rhone and in the distance the Alps of 
Vallais, The lofty cones of the Matter- 
horn, Bruneckhorn, Wiesshorn, and Dent, 
Blanche stood before us in their white 
glory ! Three thousand feet below us lay 
the Baths of Lenk. A little below the 
summit of the Pass the mountain wall drops 
almost perpendicularly 1800 feet, and along 
this giddy declivity we descend by one of 



38 A TRAMF THROUGH, 

the most wonderful of Alpine bridle-paths. 
The winding w^ay is hewn in the face of 
the rock and in many places the mountain 
mass over-hangs the narrow road ! The 
steepest places and also the shorter curves 
are protected by railings. This spiral 
stairway hewn in the mountain wall is 
about two miles long and not less than five 
feet wide. It was built more than a hun- 
dred years ago. The views in descending 
are wild and beautiful. Looking up from 
the valley no trace of the road can be seen. 
One would never dream from appearances 
that scores of people daily climbed that 
mountain side. The ascent is readily 
made on horseback, but to descend by that 
method is extremely perilous. A few years 
ago, a lady in making the attempt, fell from 
her horse and lost her life. Invalids make 
the journey in either direction in easy 
chairs borne by trusty carriers. 

We reached the Bath of Leuk, a place 
of about five hundred inhabitants, at noon. 
The spirit of rivalry among the hotel- 
keepers, though favorable to tourists, must 
be ruinous to themselves, when a dinner of 
six courses can be had for thirty cents ! 

The principal attractions are the numerous 



SWITZERLAND, 39 

hot springs and the bathing" establishments 
connected with them. ' In the baths the 
patients sit for hours parboiling themselves 
and deriving therefrom either real, or im- 
aginary benefit, which is about the same 
thing. The Dala,fed by these boiling springs, 
cools itself in the wild ravine below on its 
way to the Rhone. We followed the 
stream down the valley for many miles 
On our way we passed the village of Albi- 
nen, perched upon a lofty slope at our left, 
and reache-d only by a series of rude lad- 
ders extending from ledge to ledge up the 
almost perpendicular mountain-side ! The 
lower portion of our road descended very 
rapidly by many windings to the ancient 
town of Leuk with it crumbling castle on 
the banks of the Rhone. 

Though foot-sore and weary from our 
tedious mountain travel, we hurried on 
through the stony streets of the quaint old 
village, over the Rhone, past Suesten, and 
on across the broad level reaches of 
meadow-land to Turtman, where we ended 
our twenty-five miles of weary pilgrimage. 



40 A TBAMP THROUGH 



CHAPTER VI, 

Valley of the Visp. — St. Nicolas. — 
Watterfalls and Glaciers. — The 
Weisshorn — Zermatt. — The Matter- 
horn. RiFFELBERG AND GORNER GrAT. 

Early in the morning we journeyed up 
the Rhone valley, next to the Rhine per- 
haps in richness and fertility, while the mist 
hung low upon the mountains and the clouds 
threatened rain. Since we drank at the 
source of the Rhone at the foot of the 
mighty glacier, it has become a great river, 
gathering volume and force from every rill 
on its triumphal march to the sea. Our 
way led through interminable avenues 
of Lombardy poplars skirting the rich 
meadows and fields of corn and hemp till 
we came where the Visp issuing from its 
valley of vineyards, joins the Rhone. 

From Visp to Zermatt, one of the 
highest of the Swiss valleys, the route is 
alive with interest. There are cascades 



SWITZEBLANB, 41 

and mountains and glaciers in rich pro- 
fusion. Winding through the narrowing 
valley the bridle-path skirts the rapid 
stream white with foam under the shadows 
of the grim mountains. Beyond Stalden 
a brief shower compelled us to seek shelter 
amid the picturesque surroundings of a 
Swiss kitchen. The furniture was not 
luxurious. There were a rude loom and 
a huge fire-place ; a table and a few chairs. 
In one corner lay a heap of black balls 
the size of one's head. They looked very 
much like cannon shot, but they proved to 
be cheese. The door bore the date, 1722. 
Farther on we saw the little hamlet of 
Emd with its white-walled church, perched 
high up on a dizzy slope as if clinging to 
the mountain-side. Still farther we crossed 
the stream to our left, while for miles on 
our right we had the ruins of the old road 
which was destroyed by an earthquake in 
1855. Ten miles from Visp wecamic to St. 
Nicolas, a town of a thousand inhabitants, 
yet having no communication with the out- 
side world save by a mule path ! In the 
afternoon we had before us, up the valley, a 
vast mountain crowned with snow, from 
which the wind came down fresh and cool. 



42 ^ TBAMP THROUGH 

A little beyond St. Nicolas we came to a 
lofty water-fall which leaps down the moun- 
tain-side by a few bold plunges, a thousand 
feet or more. Opposite the little hamlet of 
Randa the Weisshorn lifted its white cone 
15,000 feet in air, and from its snow-fields 
a glacier crawled slowly toward the valley. 
High up on the left the Festi glacier came 
boldly down from the lofty Dome, sunned 
itself on the heights a while, then leaped the 
rocks in cascades of creamy foam. More 
and more the mountains crowded upon the 
valley while the wildness of the scenery 
was enhanced by the increasing altitude. 
Suddenly, as w^e rounded a curve near 
Zermatt the snow-white cone of the Mat- 
terhorn towered high above the surrounding 
peaks like a pillar of the sky ! Its summit 
stood in the orange glow of sunset while 
the shadows of twilight brooded in the 
valley. 

Zermatt is one of the highest valleys of 
Europe — 5,400 feet above the sea — and is 
over-looked by the High Alps. It may 
lack the pastoral beauty of Chamouni yet 
it is a formidable rival, being about two 
thousand feet higher. Surrounded by 
slopes of barren rocks and swarthy firs, 



SWITZERLAND, 43 

and over-looked by peaks of snow, it clasps 
three glaciers in its arms and still rejoices 
in its greenness. 

At 4.30 of an August morning which had 
the frosty tingle of winter in its breath, we 
left Zermatt for the ascent of the Riffel- 
berg and the Corner Grat. High above 
us stood the Matterhorn like a mountain 
of pearl in the rose-flush of dawn. Be- 
fore us lay the base of the great Cor- 
ner Clacier, and issuing from it the Visp 
flowed past us — a torrent of ice-water. The 
air was intensely cold and it required vig- 
orous exercise to keep up the circulation. 
The ascent, usually made in about three 
hours, is by one of the steepest of the 
well-travelled bridle-paths. The way 
leads first through green meadows and 
then through groves of pine and Alpine 
cedars to the higher altitudes where only 
dwarfish rhododendrons grow. Upward 
we climbed toward the growing light while 
far above us the early sunbeams touched,' 
one by one, the cones of snow, then glided 
down to light the shadowy valley. 

From the table-land of the Riffelberg 
the out-look is grand and beautiful, but 
from the Corner Crat, an hour and a half 



44 A TRAMP THROUGH 

farther up, the loftier glories of the Alpine 
world stand forth unveiled. 

We stood upon the rocky crest, more 
than 10,000 feet above the sea and complet- 
]y encircled by an Alpine wall of snow- 
peaks and glaciers. Clear and bold stood 
out the broad, rounded domes of snow, and 
lifted ice-horns tossing the glaciers from 
their glittering tips ! How cold and still 
they stood against the cloudless blue ! Con- 
spicuous over all, because of its nearness, 
is the Matterhorn — the chief charm and 
glory of Zermatt. Its uplifted crest, 15,000 
feet in air, " announces the morn and keeps 
the sunset's-gold." The lofty spires of the 
Mischabel group, the Wiesshorn, the Dent 
Blanche, the Breithorn and hosts of others 
seemed to bear aloft the blue sky on their 
rosy crowns. 

" How faintly flushed, how phantom fair, 
Was Monte Rosa hanging there, 
A thousand shadowy penciled valleys 
And snowy dells, in a golden air." 

The day was one of a thousand. Not a 
breath of vapor stained the whole broad 
heaven ! The glory of the mountains was 
completely unveiled, and at one glance the 
eye swept the whole vast panorama. The 



SWITZERLAND. 45 

Corner Glacier with its wonderful morain- 
es coiling about the base of the rocky crest 
where we stood, revealed its entire length 
to our view. It is a most perfect and beauti- 
ful specimen of its kind. Away from 
Monte Rosa and beyond, it coils about 
mountains white with eternal snow, and fed 
by hosts of tributaries on its way, it creeps 
down like a huge monster stiffened with 
cold, to warm itself in the valley. The 
broad belts of rock and gravel banding its 
length, or heaped at regular intervals along 
its margin, make it still more the coiled and 
spotted dragon that it seems. 

Distance, in this pure mountain air, is 
wholly illusive. Everything is so clearly 
and sharply defined that one fails utterly 
in forming any correct estimate as to the 
remoteness of objects. To all appearances, 
Monte Rosa could be reached in an hour, 
yet it is forty miles away ! Above the 
snow-line the songs of birds and the mur- 
murs of insects vanish ; there is only the 
silence of earth and sky. Nature s innu- 
merable voices are muffled in snow. 

There are but few Alpine views which 
can compare favorably with this from the 
Corner Crat. That from the Rigi Kulm 



46 ^ TBAMP TB ROUGH 

is grand and beautiful, but far inferior 
since the mountains are more remote and 
less sharply defined. This is a picture 
which stands alone — one which a lifetime 
can never efface. 



SWITZEBLANB. 47 



CHAPTER VIL 

First ascent of the Matterhorn. — Fare- 
well TO Zermatt. — Down the Visp 
Valley. — Swiss Farming. — ■ Cottages 
AND Customs. — From Visp to Mar- 
tigny. 

In returning to Zermatt we met belated 
parties of ladies and gentlemen toiling up 
in the heat of the day. Knowing well 
how tedious the ascent had been in the 
early morning, we did not envy them their 
experience at noon-day.- 

In the little churchyard at Zermatt are 
buried four of the party which made the 
first ascent of the Matterhorn. This dar- 
ing feat was accomplished on the 14th of 
July, 1865, by four Englishmen and three 
Swiss guides. Armed with alpenstocks, 
and tied together by a long rope, they 
succeeded in reachinfc the summit, but in 
descending, not far from the top, one of 
the party lost his footing and was precip- 
itated, with two of his friends and one of 



18 ^ TRAMP THROUGH 

the guides, to a depth of four thousand feet 
upon the ice and rocks below ! The re- 
mainder of the party were saved by the 
breaking of the rope which was designed 
to insure their safety ! 

Since that trao^ic event the route has 
been so improved by blasting and by the 
erection of rope railings, that now the 
ascent of the Matterhorn is a common 
occurrence — though a most perilous under- 
taking at the best. Above the beautiful 
marble tablets which the hand of affection 
has placed over these English graves, 
stands, in full view, the grim ice-pyramid 
— their lasting memorial. 

We would fain have lingered in Zermatt 
for a season, but other scenes beckoned 
us to resume our journey. Pausing at 
the curve in the road which gave us our 
first view of the grand old Matterhorn, we 
took a long lingering look at its noon-day 
glory while memory photographed it for- 
ever. 

In retracing our steps through the upper 
part of the Visp valley, we often wondered 
how the people managed to subsist. There 
is so little arable land that it seems im- 
possible to live on the products of the 



S WITZERLAND. 49 

soil. The secret, doubtless, lies in the 
fact that their wants are few and simple, 
and that everything is utilized. In the 
tourist season many find employment as 
guides and porters. The long, dreary 
winters are favorable for wood and ivory 
carving and other mechanical work which 
finds a ready market in the summer. The 
mountain pastures support large herds of 
cows and goats, from which great quanti- 
ties of butter and cheese are made. 

The narrow valleys are cultivated very 
industriously, and the thin strips of meadow 
starred with crocus and gentian, afford rich 
aftermath. No rod of arable land is al- 
lowed to lie fallow, and even grass fringing 
the bridle-paths is gathered with the sickle. 
In these high valleys the plow seems to be 
unknown. Its use would involve the cost 
and keeping of a team, while the use of 
the pick and spade involves neither. With 
these the soil is prepared for the seed, and 
the work is as thoroughly done as with 
the plow. Irrigation is systematically 
practiced. This, no doubt, increases the 
production of the soil many fold. The 
multitudes of little mountain streams leap- 
ing down the slopes everywhere, are read- 



50 A TRAMP THROUGH, 

ily conducted, by means of trenches, over 
the meadows, so that the crops never suf- 
fer from drouth. Without the common 
facilities for transportation — for there are 
no roads^ — all burdens must be borne upon 
the back. We saw women thus carrying 
hay from the meadows to the barn, and 
even climbing a ladder with their burden, 
and depositing it in the loft. 

The picturesque character of the rural 
Swiss cottage has been celebrated in ro- 
mance and song. Many of them are neat 
and tasteful, but too often they fall far 
short of our ideal. Under the broad pro- 
jecting eaves, onions, herbs and corn are 
hung for shelter. Little bunches of glean- 
ings from the grain patches, and fruit ripen- 
ing in the windows, lend an air of thrift 
and economy. 

Sometimes the front of the cottage 
bears in large letters, the owner's, or build- 
er's name, followed by a sentiment, a bene- 
diction, or a prayer. The ground floor, 
however, is generally a stable where in 
winter the cows, sheep, and goats live in 
delightful proximity to the family over- 
head. 

Switzerland is mainly Protestant, yet 



SWITZERLAND. 51 

chapels, shrines and crosses, are found 
frequently by the roadsides and along the 
bridle-paths, on the mountains and in the 
valleys. Rude crucifixes, in wood or 
stone, from a foot in height to life-size, are 
often found by the roadside. 

Mendicants are found in Switzerland as 
in every country, yet the percentage of per- 
sons subsisting by alms is only about one- 
third as large as in England. By the way- 
side the tourist may often hear some lugu- 
brious song, or tale of misery, or look upon 
some hideous deformity which is its owner's 
stock in trade. Goitre prevails to a fright- 
ful extent among the poorer classes in the 
mountain districts. 

Our last night in the valley of the Visp 
was spent in the little village of Stalden 
situated on a spur of the mountains over- 
run with vineyards. It was already dark 
when we arrived and it was with some dif- 
ficulty that we found the dingy little inn 
where we took such rest as the long day's 
march had richly earned. We had walked 
twelve hours and had reached our highest 
altitude thus far — more than 10,000 feet 
above the sea. 

A walk of four miles in the morning to 



62 -^ TRAMP THROUGH 

breakfast gave us such a relish for our re- 
past as pampered appetites rarely know. — 
We passed down the Rhone valley from 
Visp to Sierre by the lumbering diligence 
beclouded in .dust, and trundled along to 
the sleepy jingle of its bells. After a ride 
by rail from Sierre to Martigny in an at- 
mosphere of torrid heat, we were more than 
willing to resume our knapsacks again, and 
with them the freedom and freshness of 
the hills. 



SWITZERLAND. 53 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Over the Col de la Forclaz. — Up the 
Col de Balme. — Lost on the Mountain. 
— An Alpine Storm — A Drowsy 
Watch — Sunrise over Mount Blanc ! 

We reached Martigny about noon, and 
soon turned our faces toward the world- 
renowned valley of Chamouni. The routes 
over several of the famous Alpine Passes 
center at Martigny : — over the Simplon to 
Lake Maggiore, — over the Great St. Ber- 
nard to Aosta, — and over the Tete Noire 
and the Col de Balme to Chamouni. It 
is a nine hours' walk by the Col de Balme 
and it was already past noon. Beyond 
Martigny le Bourg we cross the Dranse 
coming down from the Pass of St. Bernard 
and bringing its tribute to the Rhone. 
Above the town the road begins to ascend 
by many windings through vineyards and 
orchards. Higher it leads through a belt 
of woodland, and above this discloses rare 
vistas of mountain, stream, and valley. 



54 A TBAMP THBOITGB 

Tourists, ascending and descending, in 
carriages, on horseback and on foot, en- 
liven the way with laughter and song. 

We met huge wagon-loads of ice from 
the Glacier of Trient going down to the 
ice-houses of Martigny and the towns be- 
low. A sensible plan truly this putting in 
the ice in August ! 

Late in the afternoon we reached the 
Col de la Forclaz — the boundary range be- 
tween Switzerland and France and de- 
scended into the valley of the Trient. Be- 
yond us rose the gloomy height of the Col de 
Balme. Crossing the green valley swept by 
the cool breath of the neighboring glacier we 
followed up a wild stream draining the moun- 
tain pastures above. The path mounted 
boldly by many zig-zags and windings 
through a black, gloomy forest, desolated 
and thinned here and there, by avalanches. 
Upward we climbed, stumbling over roots 
and stones, for night and darkness, hastened 
and intensified by a gathering storm, were 
rapidly gathering about us. 

We had expected to find shelter and rest 
at the hotel on the summit of the Pass, but 
the distance was greater than we had antic- 
ipated. When we emerged from the 



SWITZERLAND, 55 

wooded slope into the open pasture there 
was no trace of any human habitation to 
be seen — no friendly light to guide our 
wanderings. Still we pushed on over the 
rugged pasture slope, tangled with low 
bushes and gullied with rains, as best we 
could. Finally it became too dark to pro- 
ceed only as flashes of lightning revealed 
the path and showed for an instant the 
frowning mountains and the wild grandeur 
of the storm. Hastening on after each 
lurid gleam, and peering through the dark- 
ness for some humble shelter, we discov- 
ered at last some old, deserted log huts, or 
sheep stables. To add to our discomfort 
the big drops began to fall, and fearing that 
we should miss the hotel in the darkness 
and also be unable to return to this shelter 
again, we concluded to stop at once for the 
night. Scarcely had an entrance been 
effected when the storm burst over u$ in 
all its fury. The wind came howling down 
the Pass with an energy that threatened to 
leave us shelterless in spite of the stones 
heaped upon the roof. Our rude hut was 
lighted too often by the lurid lightning, re- 
vealing through the spacious chinks the 
lofty frowning ranges, while 



56 A TEA MP THROUGH 

*^Far along 
From peak to peak the rattling crags among 
Leaped the live, thunder," 

whose many-voiced reverberations shook 
the very foundations of the hills. The 
rain came down in torrents and soon the 
swollen streams, plunging through the 
darkness, added to the general confusion 
the voice of many waters. 

After a few hours the storm abated and 
ere midnight the stars shone peacefully 
again over the desolate mountains. The 
cheerless cold which succeeded the storm 
made it perilous to sleep, destitute as we 
were of extra covering, and so the long 
dreary hours of the night were spent in 
sleepless vigils. Unfortunately we were 
without matches so that we could neither 
kindle a fire for our comfort nor see to 
note the slowly passing hours. Hungry 
and weary, drearily the sleepless hours drag- 
ged along. Long before dawn, stiff with 
cold, we left our humble shelter and groped 
our way by the light of the stars, toward 
the summit of the Pass. Over broken 
ground, torn and gullied by torrents, we 
stumbled for an hour before reaching the 
hotel. Though still dark we thought that 



SWITZERLAND. $7 

the dawn could not be far distant, so we 
climbed a commanding eminence a half 
hour to the right, and waited for the sun- 
rise ! For long, weary, drowsy, almost end- 
less hours, they seemed, we walked and raced 
and wrestled upon the wind-swept height 
and watched for the first trace of dawn. 
It was a dreary watch, but like the storm, 
it had its end. At length the east bright- 
ened, the stars paled^ and there dawned 
upon us in the growing light the white 
glory of Mont Blanc and the spectral wall 
of the Bernese Alps with its pinnacles of 
snow! At our feet stretched away the 
green vale of Chamouni and above and 
beyond it towered the Mont Blanc 
range. The vision expanded with the 
increasing light as countless snow-cladpin- 
nacles "caught the sunrise on their crowns 
and were golden with day." Minerva-like 
the grand vision sprang from star-mailed 
darkness into light — Dawn's glorious com- 
pensation for the hungry watch and the 
sleepless night of storm ! 



68 -^1 TEAMP THROUGH 



CHAPTER IX. 

Valley of Chamouni — Glaciers — The 
Monarch of Mountains — The Mer de 
Glace — The Tete Noire Pass — Mar- 
TiGNY again — The Long Walk ended. 

We descended from our mount of vision 
by a steep and wretched bridle-path over a 
region covered with slabs of slate and 
boulders to the little village of Tour where 
the glacier of the same name thrusts its 
white foot down into the valley. 

The vale of Chamouni is fifteen miles 
long by three-fourths of a mile wide — a 
ribbon strath of emerald, bordering the 
Arve. On one side it is walled by the 
ranges of the Aiguilles Rouges and the 
Brevant, and on the other by the grand 
Mont Blanc chain with its gigantic glaciers 
like so many ice-cataracts tumbling into 
the valley. Chamouni ranks second in alti- 
tude among the lofty Alpine valleys, but 
in the unrivalled grandeur of its glacier 



SWTTZEELAND, 59 

scenery It stands pre-eminent. Its summers 
are short and warm, while its winters last- 
ing from October to May, are extremely 
rigorous. 

Threading the narrow valley we halted 
at Argenti^re where we broke our long 
fast in full view of its grand old glacier, 
which sparkled in the sun above us and 
cooled the air with its icy breath. A pleas- 
ant walk of six miles down the quiet and 
fertile valley brought us to the village of 
Chamouni. We passed several glaciers by 
the way, among them the Mer de Glace, 
creeping down from the eternal ice-fields 
of Mont Blanc to the green meadows 
which they over-shadow. From the Mer de 
Glacee flows the Aveiron, which joins the 
Arve just above the village of Chamouni. 

Many excursions are made from the 
valley to various points of the Mont Blanc 
chain. The heights most accessible are 
Montauvert, the Chapeau, the Jardin 
(9,143 feet) and the Flegere. Mont Blanc 
itself was first ascended about a hundred 
years ago. The ascent is now frequently 
made, though with great peril to life and 
limb. The mountain-sides, to the distance 
of three or four thousand feet above the 



60 A TRAMP THROUGH 

valley are robed in somber forests of fir. 
Through these we ascend in two or three 
hours to Montauvert, 6,300 feet above the 
sea. From this point the grander glories 
of the glacial world are spread before us. 
The Mer de Glace formed by the union 
of three vast glaciers which fill the highest 
gorges of the Mont Blanc chain, creeps 
slowly toward the valley. This wonderful 
"sea of ice '' is twelve miles Ions: and from 
one to four miles wide. It is perhaps the 
most celebrated glacier in the world. Look- 
ing down upon its huge motionless billows 
— its glittering ice-pinnacles and desolate 
moraines, and then upward to the majestic 
monarch from which they spring, thrills 
one with inexpressible awe ! 

The Mer de Glace is like a stormy sea 

" That heard a mighty voice 
"And stopped at once amid its maddest plunge." 

Mont Blanc and its glaciers have made 
the green, quiet vale of Chamouni, the 
charmed valley of the world. 

" Mont Blanc is the Monarch of Mountains I 
They crowned him long ago.' 

He IS 1 3 miles long and from five to six 
miles in width. His highest point is 1 5,787 



SWITZERLAND. 61 

feet above the sea. He towers 7,000 feet 
above the snowline ! Some forty glaciers 
have their birth in the eternal winter over 
which this white-robed monarch reigns. 

To study glacier phenomena on the 
grandest scale, amid all the glory of ice- 
girdled and snow-crowned mountains, one 
must needs locate at Chamouni and take 
his lessons in its surroundings. 

Leaving Chamouni we retraced our 
steps to Argentiere where we took the Tete 
Noire route to Martigny. And here again 
only a bridle-path threads the wild, boulder- 
strewn valley through which glaciers once 
plowed their way leaving these rocky 
memorials of their march. The summit of 
the Pass is reached at an elevation of 5,000 
feet. Passing the wild, barren valley of Be- 
rard from which the Eau Noire descends, 
we took the mountain stream for our guide 
down the desolate, stony gorge for many 
miles. On the way we passed the little 
hamlet of Valorcine consisting of low 
chalets clustered around a little church and 
protected from avalanches by a sturdy stone 
wall. Increasing wildness gathered about 
us as we advanced, till finally the rugged 
path, mounting high above the gloomy 



62 ^ TRAMP THROUGH 

gorge through which the river plunged 
entered the tunnelled rocks of the Tete 
Noire. 

Across the wild ravine opposite rise frown- 
ing peaks from 8,000 to 10,000 feet high. 
Emerging from the tunnel the road winds 
along the precipitous slope high above the 
desolate gorge, till turning to the right it 
passes around the brow of the mountain 
and leads throuo;h a beautiful forest of firs 
up the valley of the Trient. Farther on 
the valley widens, the forest disappears and 
we strike the old trail to Chamouni. 

On the right the gloomy height of the 
Col de Balme looked down upon us — a 
grim reminder of the night of storm ! On 
the left the broad range of the Forclaz lay 
between us and the valley of rest. We 
climbed to the summit of the Pass through 
a drizzling mist and shuddered as we pass- 
ed into Switzerland at the prospect of ten 
dreary miles of rain. 

Low clouds raked the wooded slopes and 
hid the mountains behind their ragged 
fringes. Down the long, weary windings 
of the road we wandered — ten-fold longer 
and wearier for the gathering darkness and 
the rain. For three hours in the pitiless 



SWITZERLAND, 63 

storm, foot-sore and lame, we limped 
through the waning light and the gather- 
ing gloom. On and on through the deep- 
ening mud and the sobbing rain, till in the 
distance the nebulous lights of Martigny 
shone dimly through the mist. What vis- 
ions of shelter and rest did their welcome 
beams reveal ! Another mile and the goal 
was won ! Fifty miles on foot since noon 
of yesterday ended at the threshold of our 
humble inn. Last night's sleepless vigil 
clamored for rest. The storm beat steadi- 
ly on cottage roof and window-pane a 
soothing lullaby. It was Saturday night, 
and our weary tramp of three hundred and 
fifty miles amid the mountains of Switzer- 
land was ended. 



MOUNT VESUVIUS AND POMPEII. 

From Naples to Pompeii — a distance of 
some fourteen miles — the road winds along 
the shores of the beautiful bay, often pass- 
ing through deep cuttings in old lava 
streams and by old towns which have 
sprung up over the ruins of those embalm- 
ed below. By the road-sides huge century 
plants and thorny cactus trees thrive in 
the volcanic soil. Boats are gliding over the 
bluest of waters and fishermen are spreading 
their nets to dry on the sand. Seaward, 
Capri in misty outline couches upon the 
waves, and landward the breath of the vol- 
cano climbs the air and is wafted toward 
the buried city. — At Pompeii we procure a 
guide and set out for the crater of Vesu- 
vius, some eight miles away. Our path 
leads at first through green fields, along 
cool water courses, and then over a road of 
ashes, walled on either hand with blocks of 
lava. Here and there we pass through vil- 
lages built of the same volcanic material, 



66 A TBAMP THROUGH 

and beyond these the lower slopes of the 
mountain are covered with vineyards. 
Countless lizards clad in emerald and gold, 
bask in the warm sunshine as we pass, or 
rustle quickly over the hot ashes and van- 
ish in the clefts of the roadside walls. Above 
the vineyards all traces of vegetation cease, 
since the surface is covered with ashes and 
cinders only. And this desolate region 
was once the garden of Italy ! Steeper and 
steeper grows the way as we advance, and 
the picture of desolation becomes wilder 
and more terrible. At the base of the cone 
— two-thirds of the distance to the summit 
— the slope becomes almost impassably 
steep, and the path ascends by zig-zags over 
the loose ankle-deep ashes till lost in the 
clouds of vapor which hide the crater from 
our view. Looking up from below, it 
seems impossible to reach the summit by 
such a path. 

The ashes slide under our feet, the ground 
is hot in places, and vapor issues therefrom 
as if the whole cone were one vast steam- 
pit ! Now and then come clouds of suf- 
focating fumes, compelling us to cover 
our faces with our handkerchiefs in order 
to breathe ! Anon a breath of air comes 



SWITZERLAND. 67 

to our relief and we hurry on while we may. 
At last the crater's rim is reached, and half 
smothered by the stifling vapors we hasten 
round to the windward side. There 
yawns the smoking pit before us like the 
gateway to Pluto's underworld. It is a vast 
abyss of moi'e than a mile in circumference, 
with jagged, lava-crusted sides, sloping 
steeply down, five hundred feet, to the 
fuming throat below ! The wind tosses 
and tumbles the ascending volumes of 
steam and smoke, till they fall apart and 
give us glimpses to the bottom of the 
frightful chasm on whose brink we stand ! 
Around the rim of the crater the crust 
is in many places, too hot to walk on, and 
in holes and crevices under the layers of 
lava the heat is most intense. Sticks 
thrust into these places are speedily set on 
fire, and a cautious look therein reveals 
the red glow of the furnace! In these 
volcanic ranges heated by the central fires 
around the glowing core of our world, we 
cooked our dinner and then sat down on 
the volcano's rim to a repast of toast and 
eggs which an epicure might envy.— 
Vesuvius is four thousand feet above the 
sea. On the one hand the black cone of 



eS A TRAMP THROUGH 

Mt. Soma lifts itself to almost an equal 
height and on the other stretch away the 
blue waters of the sea. To the north lies 
Naples behind its crescent of white sand, 
and around the rocky point just beyond 
is Putioli where St. Paul landed on his 
way to Rome. To the south and west, 
between the mountain and the sea lies the 
region so often desolated by the lava 
floods of the past. It is dotted with towns 
and villages standing upon the congealed 
tides which engulfed and embalmed their 
predecessors. — The slope of Vesuvius in 
the direction of Pompeii is a wild picture of 
desolation. Crsted lava, scoria, and ashes 
cover it to the base, and black ridegs of 
congealed matter stretch away like a black 
finger of doom toward the buried city. It 
is a scene of terrible ruin, as though all the 
giant energies of nature had vied with 
each other in blighting and scourging one 
of the fairest regions of the earth. Five 
or six miles away on the plain stand the 
ruins of Pompeii. We descend the moun- 
tain along the track of the volcano's wrath 
and enter the silent streets of the doomed 
city. Two thousand years ago Pompeii 
was a populous city of twenty thousand 
inhabitants. 



SWITZERLAND, 69 

For eighteen hundred years it has been 
buried beneath the ashes of Vesuvius ! 
For seven hundred years its very site was 
unknown ! The work of excavation began 
more than a hundred years ago. To-day 
about half of the city is laid open to the 
light. The Forum, Amphitheatre, several 
temples and other public edifices, and many 
fine private dwellings have been uncovered. 
The houses were originally two stories in 
height ; — the upper one being of wood and 
used for storage and servants' rooms. The 
rain of fire consumed, of course, the wooden 
portion, and now the roofless walls of the 
lower story, averaging some twenty feet in 
height, and composed of lava, concrete or 
brick, alone remain. 

The streets are from fourteen to twenty- 
four feet wide and paved with great blocks 
of lava. The pavements are well worn by 
iron hoofs and deeply rutted by carriage 
wheels. In some streets the side-walks 
are higher than the road-way and here are 

** Stepping stones from side to side 
O'er which the maidens, with their water urns, 
Were wont to trip so lightly." 

The private dwellings are entered by a 
narrow passage leading into a court, around 



70 A TRAMP THROUGH. 

which all the rooms are situated and into 
which they all open. Over the entrance to 
the various rooms is usually a porch, or 
colonnade. In the center of the court is 
the reservoir for rain waten Some of these 
courts are yet adorned with statuary, 
though most of the best works of art have 
been removed to the museum in Naples. 
In many of the houses, especially in the 
dining and sleeping-rooms, fine frescoes 
yet remain upon the walls. Many of these 
wall paintings indicate but too plainly the 
pleasure-seeking tendency of those times. 
The floors of the rooms as well as of the 
courts and entrance halls are morsics of 
plain but tasteful patterns. Some of these 
are nearly as perfect to-day as when trod- 
den by the beauty and fashion of Pompeii 
or the softer patter of childish feet two 
thousand years ago ! — 

We wander through these silent streets, 
peering into deserted dwellings where the 
frescoes are yet fresh on the walls ; — we go 
into the shops, baths, wine-cellars, bakeries, 
courts, theatres and temples, musing on the 
busy throngs who lived and dreamed in 
this old city long before the Christmas 
Chorus of the Angels woke the echoes of 



SWITZERLAND, 71 

the far Judaean hills with heavenly melody. 
— In the work of excavation several hun- 
dred human skeletons have been found. 
In the museum are casts of several bodies, 
formed by pouring plaster of Paris into the 
cavities where they lay, thereby revealing 
the fearful contortions of the victims in the 
wild death-grapple of that terrible night of 
doom. One of these casts represents a 
man in the attitude of flight, and an- 
other, a fair young girl with rings on 
her delicate fingers ! Here, also, are 
seen loaves of bread, " whole, hard, and 
black," bearing the bakers imprint, and 
just as they were taken from the oven 
where they were baked only 79 years after 
the birth of Christ ! The old bakery with 
its ancient stone mills remains, but the 
hands that wrought at the wheels, or that 
moulded these enduring loaves were dust 
more than a thousand years before our New 
World was known ! We walk through 
these desolate streets with no sound save 
the ghostly echoes of our footsteps among 
the ruins. The forum is silent, the temples 
are deserted, the theatres are abandoned. 
We tread the same pavement once trodden 
by the silent throng, we look upon the 



J 



72 ^ TRAMP THROUGH 

same walls, admire the beauty of the public 
and private buildings and even invade the 
sleeping apartments of the rich and noble ; 
but the dreamers have long since vanished 
like the visions of the night though the 
pictured walls that guarded their slumbers 
yet remain, while silence and desolation 
have reigned over the city for eighteen 
hundred years ! 



A WALK IN THE ODENWALD. 

In the early dawn of a chill October 
morning we rumbled out of Heidelberg, 
northward, along the Bergstrasse to Bick- 
enbach. On the left lay the broad green 
plains of the Rhine, and on the right the 
mountain region, once so wild and perilous, 
know as the Odenwald. 

At Bickenbach we left the railway for 
a two days' walk through the forest of Odin. 
Far from being the wilderness which its 
ancient name indicates, it is now a thriving 
agricultural region, with rich fruitful val- 
leys and hillsides, with towns and villages 
strung along its excellent roads, and foot- 
paths winding over its hills and mountains, 
wherever a gray old ruin lifts its crumbling 
front to arrest the eye of the wanderer. 

From the railway station to Jungenheim 
our path skirts the rich border of the Rhine 
meadows, stretching away in all the beaut}? 
and luxuriance of our own garden prairies 
of the West. The little dorf of Jungen- 



74 ^ TBAMP THBOUGH 

heim, with its quaint, high-gabled houses 
and crooked streets, keeps guard like a 
faithful warden at this valley gateway of the 
Odenwald. Above the town is the pictur- 
esque county seat of Prince Alexander von 
Hessen, and higher on the hills we come 
to the sturdy tower and crumbling walls of 
the Castle of Alsbach. From the battle- 
ments of this old ruin, and through the 
loop-holes wdiich time has made in its thick 
walls, w^e look forth upon a region of rare 
beauty — hill, mountain, and plain, and the 
shining curves of the Rhine sweeping to- 
ward the sea. Above us rise the heights of 
Melibocus, one of the highest peaks of this 
mountain region. 

Up the shaded slopes, by many a toil- 
some path, winding under the broad, cool 
branches of oak and maple, we sought the 
summit and the lofty tower crowning the 
height, from which we looked forth as from 
a mount of vision. Around us lay the 
whole extent of the Odenwald. In the 
south stretched away the somber depths of 
the Black Forest. The broad, green val- 
ley of the Rhine lay before us, and the 
stately windings of the river could be traced 
for miles. Cities and villages were strung 



SWITZERLAND. 75 

along its shores, and the little valleys stray- 
inor back from its border of meadows till 
lost among the mountains, held each its 
busy hamlets and its crumbling ruins. In 
the distance above the trees frinQrino: the 
Rhine, the clustered towers of the Cathe- 
dral of Speyer lifted their ancient bells. 
Across the valley, upon a wooded height 
opposite, the gray old tower and battlements 
of the Castle of Auerbach peered above the 
forest trees and looked down on the valley 
world. 

Leaving the old forester of Melibocus 
alone in his shady hermitage, we took our 
way across a spur of the mountains to 
Felsenberg. The farm work in this local- 
ity appears to be carried on principally by 
women. Potatoes and turnips were the 
chief crops unharvested, and these were be- 
ing gathered in right merrily. The strength 
and endurance of these peasant women 
seems wonderful. In carrying heavy 
burdens upon their heads, and in all kinds 
of outdoor work they seem to be fully 
equal to the men. 

On the Felsenberg is the celebrated 
" Sea of Rocks " — an area of several acres 
in the midst of the forest, covered with 



76 A TRAMP THROUGH 

great, massive blocks of syenite, tossed 
together in the wildest confusion. It 
looks as though the giants of the old 
mythology had stepped out of the realm 
of fable into these forests of Odin for a 
time, and had left behind them these 
tokens of their wild diversions. 

Near this wonderful freak of nature lies 
the " Giants' Column." It is a syenitic 
pillar thirty feet long and four feet in diam- 
eter, fashioned out of the solid rock. 
When, by whom, or for what purpose, this 
huge shaft was hewn, is wholly unknown. 
It is so old that its history has been for- 
gotten ; yet there it lies, just where the 
workmen wrought upon it centuries ago — 
just as they left it one day and never re- 
turned ! A few steps from this — as though 
the giants had really worshipped in these 
mountain solitudes — is the " Giants' Altar.'^ 
It consists of a great ledge of granite, fif- 
teen feet long, by ten broad, from which 
vast slabs have been removed by sawing 
and splitting. The face of the rock shows 
one of the saw-cuts to have been twelve 
inches deep across its entire length, before 
the slab was split off. Two other cuttings 
were begun but left unfinished ; the one 



SWITZERLAND. 77 

about five inches deep, the other not ex- 
ceeding two or three. Both these works 
— the Altar and the Column — ^very prob- 
ably have some connection, and were 
doubtless wrought by the same workmen 
Here they lie in this unfinished state, as 
though the laborers had only ceased for an 
hour, and while we look around for the 
implements of their labor, or muse over 
their workmanship, we half expect to see 
them return to their toil ! 

Passing down a mountain stream into 
the valley, we followed its windings among 
the hills, past hamlets and villages, to the 
old town of Schonberg with its castle 
residence of the Count of Erbach. From 
the charming gardens above the castle 
another cluster of forest-girt towers looked 
down upon us from a mountain slope in 
the distance. It was the famous old 
Castle of Auerbach, once a stronghold 
but now a ruin, and thither our pilgrim 
feet were turned. 

It was a long, wearisome way, and a 
steep climb up the mountain; but after 
losing ourselves several times, we finally 
reached the object of our search— one of 
the grandest old ruins in all the region of 



78 A TBAMP THBOUGIT 

the Odenwald. The walls and watch 
tower are still standing. Huge pines are 
growing upon its battlements, and waving 
their sombre plumes over its deserted 
walls. We climbed up from the court- 
yard by a temporary stairway to the tower. 
From the walls we looked down on the 
tops of great trees which have sprung up 
in the roofless enclosure. From the 
watch-tower the surrounding landscape 
reddened with sunset, lay unrolled before 
us. We rambled about the old ruin, once 
the abode of strength and beauty, now the 
haunt of bats and owls, till dusk and dark 
ness gathered over the scene, and then 
took the devious path down the slope 
through woods and vineyards to the pic- 
turesque old town of Weinheim in the 
valley. 

The next morning we climbed the 
Schlossberg, a bold eminence overlooking 
the town. The mountain is covered with 
vineyards from base to summit and crowned 
with the ruins of Castle Windeck. Lus- 
cious clusters of purple grapes hung 
in tempting profusion around us as we 
climbed the height, but, alas ! for us, over- 
shadowed by the gracious protection of the 



SWITZERLAND, 79 

law. From Weinheim two picturesque val- 
leys lead back into the mountains, one of 
which we followed many miles. Rich farm- 
ing lands bordered the valley-streams, and 
industry, thrift and contentment seem to 
have made their homes here among the 
mountains. We met the peasants on their 
way to market bearing great burdens upon 
their heads, or resting upon the rude 
benches found everywhere in the shade of 
the wayside trees. Girls were driving oxen, 
or rather cows, drawing loads of v/ood to 
market. Oxen are seldom seen in this re- 
gion, but a yoke of cows, or even a cow 
and a horse are considered a very efficient 
team. Indeed we have seen the latter work 
ing together when we have thought the 
cow the de^^er horse of the two ! — At Tro- 
sel, from whence we passed over the hills 
again, the people were making cider after 
a very primitive fashion. The apples were 
ground, or rather crushed, by placing them 
in a curved trough and rolling over them a 
great stone wheel whose axis was the ra- 
dius of a circle of which the trough was a 
segment. — Fences are rarely found in Ger- 
many, and hence, when stock is let out to 
graze some one must always attend to look 



80 A TBAMP TTBOUGH 

after it. Many sheep are raised in this 
section, and a prominent feature of many a 
landscape is the shepherd and his dog with 
his white flock gathered about him. 

After losing ourselves again on the 
wooded heights coming over the hills, and 
wandering aimlessly for some time, we fia 
ally emerged from the forest just above the 
town which we sought, and hastened down 
to enjoy its noonday hospitality. The 
place has a history of its own and even 
some life and energy left, albeit it has 
borne for centuries the euphonious name 
of Heiligkreuzsteinach! It was an old 
town before the native red man of America 
became acquainted with those blessing of 
civilizations which have so well-nigh exter- 
minated his race. Its ancient church — 
now in ruins — was erected long before the 
New World was known, even before the 
birth of its adventurous discoverer ! We 
rested a while in this old town, drowsy at 
noonday, as if dreaming over its ancient 
history, and then passed on down the valley 
whose meadows were white with bleaching 
webs of linen, the weaving of which forms 
one of the leading: industries of this reo:ion. 

From Shoneau we passed over the hills 



SWITZEBLAND, 81 

again through a forest of great beauty and 
descended along the margin of one of those 
wild and picturesque valleys leading down 
to the storied Neckar and the quaint old 
town of Ziegelhausen by the river's brim. 
Thence along the shady margin of the shal- 
low stream, bubbling ever of the sprites and 
goblins of its Black Forest home, we took 
our way in the early dusk till Heidelberg 
and its grand old Castle came in view, and 
our tramp of forty-miles, or more, in the 
forest of Odin was ended. 

6 



THROUGH THE BLACK FOREST. 

Who has not heard of the Black Forest 
of Germany, that native haunt of fairies, 
goblins, dwarfs and all the weird and gro- 
tesque hosts which figure so largely in Ger- 
man legend and story. 

However familiar we may have been 
with the wild tales of this fairy land of our 
childhood, doubtless but few who have 
never visited the locality, have any very 
correct ideas concerning it. Though in 
the old Roman time, when it received its 
name, it was a vast unbroken wilderness, 
the deep murmur of whose somber foliage 
was sufficient in that superstitious age to 
people its dark recesses with the myster- 
ious forms of the supernatural world, it is 
very far from being such a wild and un- 
trodden region to-day. The Black Forest 
is situated in Baden and Wurtemburg and 
consists of an elevated tableland crowned 
with mountain peaks and furrowed with 
deep valleys. It has an area of over two 



84 A TRAMP THBOUGII 

thousand square miles and is drained by 
the Murg, Neckar, Danube and other 
rivers. It is the centre of great industrial 
activities which affect more or less the 
commerce of the world. The amount 
of lumber which is floated annually in 
great rafts down the Rhine from this 
reo'ion to Holland is enormous. The 

The fir forests afford masts and spars 
for countless vessels whose sails whiten 
many seas. Ornamental wood-carving is 
carried on to a great extent, and clock and 
watch-making are constantly growing 
branches of industry. In roads and bridle- 
paths, in picturesque valleys, wild and cul- 
tivated, in mountain torrents and cascades, 
in the beauty and grandeur of its swarthy 
fir forests, it is surpassed only by Switzer- 
land. 

Our tramp in the Black Forest began at 
Gernsbach, which we reached by rail late 
one night in August. This town is in the 
northern part of the Forest and some half- 
dozen miles from the renowned Baden- 
Baden. Here we slept, lulled by the music 
of flowing waters, and awoke in the morn- 
ing to find our hotel situated upon the 
banks of the impetuous Murg, which here 



SWITZERLAND. 85 

seems in mad haste to reach the Rhine. 
We shouldered our packs ere the early 
sun looked over the hills and started on 
our walk up the Murgthal. Two miles 
from Gernsbach, upon a wooded height, 
stands the old castle of Eberstein, founded 
in the early part of the 13th century. 
Halting here for breakfast, we took a look 
at the old ivied walls and at the beautiful 
landscape lying at our feet. It was a 
picture of rare beauty — hills and mountains 
black with fir-forests, interspersed with 
green, fertile valleys sprinkled with thriv- 
ing villages, and the whole walled in by 
loftier ranges in the distance. After doing 
ample justice to our repast, for which the 
hungry morning air had given us a keen 
relish, we descended to the valley and fol- 
lowed the windings of the Murg towards 
its source. A four hours' walk over an 
excellent post road lined with apple and 
pear trees, brought us to Forbach, a busy 
little dorf sunning itself in the valley and 
looking as though its houses had crowded 
together between the mountains for mutual 
safety. — At Forbach we left the post road 
and began the ascent of the mountain path 
to Herrenweiz. The lower slopes were 



86 -^ TRAMP THBOUGH 

covered with oak, beech and maple, while 
higher up we entered the region of dark 
firs. In the narrow green valleys which 
creep timidly up among the dark heights, 
the peasants were cutting the short grass- 
men and women working together. Among 
the firs one can comprehend how this 
region came to be called the Black Forest. 
The woods are verv dense, the trees tall 
and straight and the dark foliage so ex- 
cludes the sun that twilight lingers here 
at noon-day. The trees are festooned 
with moss, while the rocky ground is com- 
pletely carpeted and cushioned with the 
same green tapestry. On a high table- 
land surrounded by lofty mountains we 
found at last the village of Herrenweiz. 
It is the centre of a little valley dropped in 
between the high ranges, a bit of green in 
a somber setting. The men and women 
were making hay. How they manage to 
live in the winter is an unsolved problem. 
Over the mountains and down by a steep 
bridle-path we came to another green valley 
which, to relieve its utter loneliness, has 
blossomed out into a dorf. It is Hunds- 
bach, which consists of a little church and 
some half-dozen houses. We lodged a 



SWITZEBLANB. 87 

little farther on, where the valley is so nar- 
row and deep that the sunshine only finds 
it during the mid-day hours. 

Over twenty miles of mountain travel 
gave us sleep that was refreshing and an 
appetite that relished the humble fare of 
this Black Forest Inn. Twenty cents for 
lodgings and breakfast ! That was all — 
just think of it! — With the early light we 
crawled out of the valley and into the 
woods again for the ascent of the Hornis- 
grinde, one of the highest mountains of the 
Schwartzwald. On our way we met 
children going to school at 6 o'clock in 
the morning ! We learned from them that 
their school hours were from 6 to 9 and 
from I to 3. They carried their books in 
little knapsacks upon their backs, and each 
of them bade us a cheerful " Guten Morgen' 
as we met. To them their humble forest 
home was all the world. 

Onward we went through the dwarfed 
trees and low shrubbery till we came out 
upon the high and marshy plateau over- 
looking a wide and varied landscape. The 
greater portion of the Black Forest lay 
spread out before us. We see how it is 
made up of woodland and cleared spaces, 



88 ^ TRAMP THROUGTI 

the latter dotted with valley farms mountain 
meadows, orchard slopes and vineyards. 
To the west stretches the richest plain in 
Europe cleft by the gleaming curves of the 
Rhine. Lakes and villages nestle among 
the mountains and over all is lifted the fol- 
iage of the stately firs whose dark and 
somber character makes the name of the 
region so appropriate. 

Some five hundred feet below this table- 
land and surrounded by fir-clad mountains 
lies the dark tarn known as the Mummel- 
see. It is said to be inhabited by water 
nymphs who at every full moon come to 
the surface and revel in its lio^ht till the 
cock crows and the first flush of dawn 
warns them to retire to their grottoes under 
the waves. The only water sprites that we 
saw were two pedestrians, who hastily dis- 
robing, plunged into the cool waters, re- 
gardless of the beautiful Undines dwelling 
below. Down from this wild mountain 
lake by a zig-zag bridle-path we came to a 
desolate region of rocks which looked as 
though the Titans of the mythological ages 
had pitched them here in confusion from 
all the mountains around : — down, down to 
the post-road, the Murg, and the little vil- 



SWITZERLAND, 89 

lage of Seebacd — another knotted tangle in 
the emerald thread of the Murgthal. — After 
dinner and rest we started by a foot-path 
over the mountains for Allerheiligen. The 
path took us through the wildest valley 
that we had yet seen — the Gottschlachthal. 
A wild stream flows through it, leaping 
over the rocks in many a cascade of foam. 
The mountains are lofty on either hand, 
while the cleft is deep and narrow. In many 
places the ascent is by stairways hewn in 
the rock. 

Above and beyond, this narrow defile 
spreads out into green meadows, through 
which we pass, and on by a succession of 
mountains and valleys, till near the close 
of the day we stand upon the heights over- 
looking a green dell where Allerheiligen 
nestles in the shade. We descended to 
visit the picturesque ruins of the old abbey 
founded in 1 196. It is roofless and slowly 
crumbling away, though much of its walls, 
including several lofty arches, yet remain. 
Once the home of monks celebrated for 
their learning, and the seat of a school pat- 
ronized by the illustrious and noble, its 
mouldering ruins speak now of desolation 
and decay. Here it stands, a monument 



90 A TRAMP THROUGH SWITZERLAND. 

of the past, with the history of seven cen- 
turies clustering around it ! We Hngered 
long in the shadow of these ivied walls, try- 
ing in fancy to restore the abbey's ancient 
glory, and to re-people it again with the 
throngs which have vanished with the ages 
and long since turned to dust. — By the old 
road, which is steeper but shorter than the 
new one, we descended to Ottenhofen — a 
walk of six miles through the deepening 
twilight — where we were soon lost in dreams. 
Six miles farther in the early morning 
through the Kappellerthal — a widening 
plain of thrifty meadows and orchards — 
we emerged at last into the great plain of 
the Rhine. In the windinors of the road 
the mountains closed the valley behind 
us and our walk in the Black Forest was 
ended. 



